The Viscounty of Verbobonc is a near-independent province of the Archclericy of Veluna, ruled in palatine by a powerful viscount. The town of Verbobonc itself is the second largest post on the Velverdyva, bringing much wealth to the local lords. The writ of the viscounty extends some fifteen miles into the Kron Hills to the south, though the current gnome troubles ensure that the viscount holds little true power there. Though relations with the lords of neighboring villages and strongholds within the viscounty are not nearly as tumultuous, Viscount Wilfrick's inattentiveness during the latter part of this reign has ensured that some local rulers have more power than they ought to have, a problem that the current viscount, Langard, must deal with on a daily basis.

Hommlet & the Surrounding lands

The Village of Hommlet—or merely "Hommlet," as it is commonly called—is situated in the central part of the Flanaess, that portion of western Oerik Continent which is known and 'civilized.' The hamlet-sized village (local parlance having distinguished it with the greater term) is located some 30 leagues southeast of the town of Verbobonc, or thereabouts, on the fringe of the territory controlled by the noble Lord the Viscount of Verbobonc. It is at a crossroads.

To the north is the mighty Velverdyva River, along whose south bank runs the Lowroad. Many days' travel to the east, on the shores of the Lake of Unknown Depths (Nyr Dyv), is the great walled city of Dyvers. The village of Sobanwych lies about halfway along the route. Below that to the southeast and east are miles and miles of forest (the Gnarley), beyond which is the Wild Coast, Woolly Bay, and the Sea of Gearnat. The road south forks a league or so beyond the little community, one branch meandering off towards the Wild Coast, the other rolling through the lower Kron Hills to the village of Ostverk and then eventually turning south-wards again into the elven kingdom of Celene. The western route leads into the very heart of the gnomish highlands, passing through Greenway Valley about a day's travel distant and going onwards to the Lortmil Mountains far beyond.

Hommlet grew from a farm or two, a rest house, and a smithy. The roads brought a sufficient number of travelers and merchant wagons to attract tradesmen and artisans to serve those passing through. The resthouse became a thriving inn, and a wheel and wainwright settled in the thorp. More farmers and herdsmen followed, for grain was needed for the passing animals, and meat was in demand for the innfolk. Prosperity was great, for the lord of the district was mild and taxed but little. Trade was good, and the land was untroubled by war, outlaws, or ravaging beasts. The area was free, beautiful, and bountiful — too much so, in the eyes of some. Whether the evil came west from Dyvers (as is claimed by one faction) or crept up out of the forestlands bordering the Wild Coast (as others assert), come it did. At first it was only a few thieves and an odd group of bandits molesting the merchant caravans. Then came small bands of humanoids—kobolds or goblins—raiding the flocks and herds. Local militia and foresters of the Waldgraf of Ostverk apparently checked, but did not stop, the spread of outlawry and evil.

A collection of hovels and their slovenly inhabitants formed the nucleus for the troubles which were to increase. A wicked cleric established a small chapel at this point. The folk of Hommlet tended to ignore this place, Nulb, even though it was but 6 miles distant. But its out-of-the-way position was ideal for the fell purposes planned for this settlement, as was its position on a small river flowing into the Velverdyva. The thickets and marshes around Nulb became the lair and hiding place for bandits, brigands, and all sorts of evil men and monsters alike. The chapel grew into a stone temple as its faithful brought in their ill-gotten tithes. Good folk were robbed, pillaged, enslaved, and worse.

In but three years, a grim and forbidding fortress surrounded the evil place, and swarms of creatures worshipped and worked their wickedness therein. The servants of the Temple of Elemental Evil made Hommlet and the lands for leagues around a mockery of freedom and beauty. Commerce ceased, crops withered; pestilence was abroad. But the leaders of this cancer were full of hubris and, in their overweaning pride, sought to overthrow the good realms to the north, who were coming to the rescue of the land being crushed under the tyranny wrought by the evil temple. A great battle was fought.

When the good people of Hommlet saw streams of ochre-robed men and humanoids fleeing south and west through their community, there was great rejoicing, for they knew that the murderous oppressors had been defeated and driven from the field in panic and rout. So great was the slaughter, so complete the victory of good, that the walled stronghold of the Temple of Elemental Evil fell within a fortnight, despite the aid of a terrible demon. The place was ruined and sealed against a further return of such abominations by powerful blessings and magic.

Life in Hommlet quickly returned to a semblance of its former self, before the rise of the temple. For five years afterward, the village and the surrounding countryside have become richer and more prosperous than ever before. A monstrous troll which plagued the place for a time was hunted down by a party of passing adventurers. Carrying the ashes and a goodly fortune as well, the adventurers returned to the village. Before going elsewhere to seek their fortunes, the adventurers also returned a portion of the villagers' losses. Other adventurers, knowing of the evil that had once resided in the area, came to seek out similar caches, and several did find remote lairs and wealth—just as some never returned at all.

After a time, adventurers stopped coming to the area. It seemed that no monsters were left to slay, and no evil existed here to be stamped out. The villagers heaved a collective sigh—some pained at the loss of income, but others relieved by the return to the quiet, normal life—and Hommlet continued its quiet existence for four years more.

But then, a year ago, the bandits began to ride the roads again—not frequently, but to some effect. To the good folk of Hommlet, this seemed all too familiar, so they sent word to the Viscount that wicked forces might still lurk thereabouts. This information has been spread throughout the countryside, and the news has attracted outsiders to the village once again. Who and what these men are, no one can be quite sure. All claim to be bent on slaying monsters and bringing peace and security to Hommlet; but deeds speak more loudly than words, and lies cloak the true purposes of the malevolent.

hommlet.jpg786.58KB30 downloads( a more modern version of the original map of the village of Hommlet)

"Your party is now approaching the Village of Hommlet, having ridden up from lands of the Wild Coast. You are poorly mounted, badly equipped, and have no large sums of cash. In fact, all you have iswhat you wear and what you ride, plus the few coins that are hidden in purses and pockets. What you do possess in quantity, though, is daring and desire to become wealthy and famous. Thus your groupcomes to Hommlet to learn. Is this indeed a place for adventurers to seek their fortunes? You all hope, of course, to gain riches and make names for yourselves. The outcome of this is uncertain, but your skill and daring, along with a good measure of luck, will be the main ingredients of what follows, be it for weal or woe.

The small community at the crossroads is a completely unknown quantity. What is there? Who will be encountered? Where should you go? These are your first explorations and encounters, so chance may dictate as much as intelligence. Will outsiders be shunned? Are the reports true — is the whole community engaged in evil practices? Are the folk here bumpkins, easily duped? Does a curse lay upon those who dare to venture into the lands which were once the Temple's? All of these questions will soon be answered.

The dusty, rutted road is lined with closely-grown hedges of brambles and shrubs. Here and there it cuts through a copse or crosses a rivulet. To either hand, forest and meadow have given way to field and orchard. A small herd of kine graze nearby, and a distant hill is dotted with the wand stone chimneys with thin plumes of blue smoke rising from them. A road angles west into the hill country, and to either side of the road ahead are barns and buildings — Hommlet at last!"

The adventure begins...

(the party arrives from the South Road (where #1 & #4 are)

The horses have seen better days but they've gotten you here. While you may be able to buy a new one here, your not exactly sure what is in Hommlet. From the tales you've heard on the road it was a prosperous village & had a successful inn (The Inn of the Welcome Wench) & a well-stocked supply store. These days your not sure.

As the party stops the horses at the crossroads. You see to the West a clean but slightly run-down set of buildings indicating that this is a farm in a not very prosperous position. However, the stock appears quite healthy and plump. An active lad of 12 or so is doing chores. Nothing appears of particular interest. (#2)

Ahead is a wood and plaster house & it is well-kept, and the barn beyond is bulging with hay, grain, and so forth. Several fat animals are about. Two large farm dogs bark at you but do not approach the party. The noise brings out a rosy-cheeked goodwife to the doorway. (#1)

On the other side of the road is anther farm house. (#4) The house and barn show that this farmer is doing well too, and the stock in the fenced-in yard are very fine-looking. You see a fetching feminine face in a window.

1. Me speaking what I posted out loud at home sounds completely different from what the words indicated when written.(Thank you Wife for the Save.)

2. I do not think I much liked the talking to my self thing and trying to write it. If we where in game and in front of each other I would totally do it, but for these purposes I do not think it will work.

Also the game we are playing sir, is Swords and Wizardry Core. Not Sorcery, plus I am sure Matt Finch would appreciate some acknowledgement with his rule set. Just saying is all.
Thank you for your time.

Coriander steps down from his saddled horse as they approach the town, leading his over worked stallion. Fleabag as the cleric has come to call him may not look the part of a stallion these days but he used to be once upon a time. This horse he found abandoned, tied to a tree nearly starved. He just couldn't bring himself to leave the animal. Besides being overly old for a horse, the horse proved to be a good companion and for the most part carried the cleric where he wanted to go.

“Lets take a moment to gather our bearings” Cory suggested. Even though his given game was Coriander Waterspout, he often went by Cory to his friends and companions. “The horses are tired and need a bit of rest and something good to eat.” The cleric surveyed the farms as the group came upon them, trying to determined which might prove to provide the most beneficial for information and the feeding of the horses.

Strangers approaching one so young might draw some unwanted attention to themselves, where as the second farm, the barking dogs have called its owner to the doorway. A female face could be seen from a window at the third farm, she may not wish to be disturbed. The second farm would be the wisest choice. The group could greet her from the road, ask for directions and possibly about the feeding and watering of their horses. If she was not agreeable they could turn to one of the other farms.

“I think we should make our inquiries with the farmhouse on the left. There possibly the owner waits in the doorway and is already aware of our presence by her barking dogs.”

Chara nods at Cory's suggestion too, knowing that he carries books around with him and therefore must be smarter than most. "Good idea.", she says, endorsing his plan now. "You do the askin', right?. I don't like dogs."

"News of our arrival will spread quickly enough in a town as small as this one. I do not think it matters who we ask first," Isha says from the back of the party. "There's probably only one tavern anyway."

~It's not broken.... it's a conversion. ~

"I got my brother and his six year old hooked last week. They were soon back at the friendly local for more. Starts with a cute lil unicorn, next thing you're onto griffins and purple worms." ~ Carnacki the Ghost Finder

I was not all interested in a tavern nor getting my name out. I am interested in information. The young boy will provide a very nieve and unselfish point of veiw. Plus I am sure he has taken notice of the fair maiden across the way. Which is a nice ice breaker.

"True enough", Cory said as he patted down his horse making sure he was ok. His horse had begun breathing rather heavily at the last gallop they had made toward the hamlet. Cory took out his water flask taking a drink and then offering what little was left to his steed. They would have to replenish some of there supplies here. "But I am not sure how the local folks would appreciate total strangers approaching their children for information. That is why we should consult with the woman at the door."

Turning his attention back to his horse. "We will get you some oats and hay soon. A large bucket of water as soon as we get to the inn." The cleric smiled. This may not be a gallant steed as far as the noble standards but it was his steed and companion. He patted his horse and produced his last apple. "Here you go Fleabag". The horse whinnied in appreciation and ate the apple.

well then I say as was stated before by another. Let's toss a couple of coins to the one that is needing it and have him point us in the direction of your stables. Plus I do not believe that any one would be very theartened by a cleric of a goodly god. I am sure you could talk to the boy without harresment. As far as I know you are with a goodly god are you not?

The woman hiding is hiding for a reason.

The one with the dogs and the nice farm will have her own interest and bais in mind.

"Ah hells...I got this.", grumbles Chara as she dismounts, landing on the ground a bit awkwardly following such a long ride. With or without the others' blessings nor consent, she starts walking toward the rosy-cheeked goodwife.(OOC)If any of you guys want to stop her, now's your chance.

As you will my lady. As we walk past the house with the boy I still feel as though we should offer him something and maybe ask him a question.

As for our group being noticed, well lets just say, one does not always see a half orc and a dwarf together and he is a dwarven wizard at that.

Basically if no one else does I will throw the Boy a gold for information. I have a feeling his story will be vary different from the Rosy cheeked so called "good wife". Just seeing a little fore shadowing and I am leery of anything that seems too perfect. Plus those that live in squalor are all ways over looked.

"Excuse me Chara, Please don't take offense at this but the monk or I should make inquiries with the the woman at the door. We are not sure on how these town folk will react to someone of orcish descent. Remember the last town. Orcs were the cause of the trouble. You weren't a very welcome site at first." He then turns to the dwarf and addresses him. "Golden, the poor will always be with us, and we should help. We can come back to this home after we have acquired lodging for the night and tended to the horses needs. Besides we do not know of how welcome we will be at first. These people are being attacked by bandits. Best we get directions to the inn and talk with the Viscount."

The cleric doesn't pay attention to whether or not the dwarf listens to his suggestion and hands the reigns over to the monk, "Watch Fleabag for me. I will greet the lady." The cleric walks halfway up the path. "Good day M'lady, would you so kindly give directions to where we might find lodging for the night for a group of travelers and their horses?"

Isha says quietly to no one in particular. "I see no reason we can't talk to both of them."

~It's not broken.... it's a conversion. ~

"I got my brother and his six year old hooked last week. They were soon back at the friendly local for more. Starts with a cute lil unicorn, next thing you're onto griffins and purple worms." ~ Carnacki the Ghost Finder